


Office Hours

by missdibley



Series: The Cohort [3]
Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: 18+, Academia, F/M, Fluff, NSFW, Smut, intercourse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 11:47:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5126378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dot pays a perfectly innocent visit to Tom during his office hours at the unnamed university where they are both graduate students.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Office Hours

I was feeling fine after the English Department coffee hour, where Professor Kiehl spiked everyone’s mugs of coffee and tea with bourbon dispensed from her hip flask. Pleasantly buzzed, I thought about heading straight home to smoke a little pot, order a pizza, and pass out in front of “Bob’s Burgers”. But once I stepped outside Gates-Blake, the wind picked up and blew cold rain into my face. I went back inside and decided to take the scenic route back to my office, where I could get some work done while I waited for the weather to clear.

What I called the scenic route to my office was simply a path I took that was completely indoors, going through a series of university buildings that were all interconnected. Gates-Blake, Goodspeed, Classics, Wieboldt, Harper, Social Sciences, Foster, Kelly, Green, Beecher, and finally Walker. The floors in each building matched up perfectly, which made for a nice walk.

I dawdled in Goodspeed so I could hear rehearsals from the music department. I looked forward to scrounging around for candy in Harper, where the advisors kept bowls full of Jolly Ranchers, Dum Dums, and mini Snickers for their students. I was dismayed to find the coffee shop in Classics closed, as I was hoping to find a bagel or something for my dinner. Wieboldt had a few open doors, and I could hear voices coming from those offices.

The third open door on my right bore nameplates for its occupants: Telly Fried, Classics; and Tom Hiddleston, Classics. I stuck my head in the door and looked around, finding a cramped room with one window that faced out onto the Midway.

At an ancient wooden desk covered with nicks and cigarette burns sat a guy with almond shaped eyes like mine, and a square jaw. He was probably cute when he didn’t look quite so addled. He cursed in a language I didn’t understand while he pounded angrily on his laptop. Before I could say anything, he barked.

“Mr. Hiddleston isn’t here yet. Office hours start in 10 minutes, and he’s usually late.”

“Oh? May I wait for Professor Hiddleston here?”

Telly looked up and rolled his eyes at me. “Sure. Just make sure you write your name down.” He pointed at a sheet taped to the bookcase by the front door, then muttered to himself. “How’s a fellow supposed to get any work done with you girls always barging in…”

 _You girls?_ , I thought. _Oh this should be interesting._

The first three spots on the list were already taken:

4:30: Mirandy Hendrix  
4:45: Paula Divry  
5:00: Dale Harris

In the 5:15 spot, I wrote the name of one of my favorite directors, Candida Royalle. “I’ll be back!” I called to Telly, who grunted and continued to type. I ended up in Harper Library, napping fitfully in a velour armchair instead of working.

I felt slightly restless. I hoped Tom could help with that.

At 5:10, I returned to the office, sidling in to take a seat by the door. He didn’t see me though his desk faced in my direction, as he was looking at a notebook in front of him. The redhead standing next to him, her gigantic tits just inches from his face, didn’t appear to notice me either.

“Well, Dale, I don’t see why you don’t just use the ablative case here, and then here. I think you’ll find your translation will make better sense if you do.” Tom capped his pen and set it on the desk.

“Thanks, Mister Hiddleston. I think that would be perfect.” She spoke with a lisp, which made her breathy voice sound baby-ish. I could never do baby talk myself, but I guess some dudes like it. Tom certainly seemed to, anyway, smiling to himself when she spoke.

“Please, call me To—” Tom looked up, a shit-eating grin on his face until he caught sight of me trying not to laugh. His cheeks flushed, which was adorable. I didn’t say a word, merely nodded at the girl, as if to say Oh please, don’t let me stop you.

“Tom? Okay. There was another question…”

“Sorry, Dale, but my 5:15 is here.” Tom got up and handed her a raincoat from the coatrack in the corner. “We can discuss it in class on Monday.”

Poor Dale pushed her bottom lip out and shimmied into her coat. “Well, oookay. I guess.” She poked his shoulder. “And the other thing. This weekend?”

Tom shook his head. “Flattered, of course, but I don’t date my students.”

“But you’re just a T.A.!” A look of concern crossed Dale’s pretty face, making her frown. “It’s just dinner at my place.”

“Yeah. I’m just a T.A. But still,” he said, shaking his head. “No fraternizing. I’m sure you understand.”

“Whatever.” Dale flipped her hair, then sauntered out. As soon as she was gone, I stood up and took the chair by Tom’s side. I removed my trench coat off and stuffed it under my seat, along with my bag, before I sat. His desk was angled such that Telly could not see either of us below the waist as we sat.

“So… Candida.” Tom licked his lips. “What can I do for you?”

“What haven’t you done for me?” I murmured and somehow Tom blushed even harder than he had when he first caught sight of me. I chuckled, then tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

“I’m sorry, I was just thinking. I know we’re not in the same department, but I think I have an opportunity for a joint project. A collaboration between Classics and Cinema Studies. There are these plays, you see. I found them buried, just buried _deep_ in the stacks…” I lifted my right leg, slipping off my shoe and bringing my stockinged foot between his legs so that it rested just against his crotch. “They’re written in Latin, and I wondered if perhaps you could help me with translating them? I’d like to do some staged readings, film it.”

Tom coughed as I began to flex my foot, gently massaging his cock through his jeans. “Erm, of course. Do you have some titles? They may be familiar. I’ve already translated some of Sophocles’s work, so that might help us…”

I nodded. “Of course. I have them written in my notebook. Just a tick…” I leaned to the side, dragging my bag out from under the chair. When I did that, I let my leg fall open so that my skirt rode up, revealing the bright red satin knickers I wore, and my black thigh tights were held up with red garters.

“Oh fuck…” Tom moaned.

Telly looked up and frowned. “You feeling alright, man? You look awfully red.”

Tom groaned when I pushed the ball of my foot against his cock, which was already hard. “I’m… fine! I’m fine. It’s just a touch warm in here.”

“Try opening the window, dude.” Telly nodded then went back to his work.

I opened my notebook, raising it to my face so I peered at Tom over the top. “Ready, Mister Hiddleston?”

He nodded, opening his laptop to take notes. “Ready.”

I cleared my throat, licked my lips, and began to read.

“Oh yes… here we are. _Carnal Heaven. Sweet Sisters. Thoroughly Amorous Amy. Stud Hunters._ And… the last one is _A Taste of Ambrosia_.” I closed my notebook. “That last one must be about food, wouldn’t you say?”

As I read, I continued to massage Tom’s cock with my foot. I could feel myself getting wetter the harder he got, the more he squirmed in his chair. When I finished reading, I watched him straighten up and slowly open his eyes. The look on his face…

“If you don’t mind, I have the texts in my office. Maybe we can take a look now? I’m just in Walker.” I gave him an innocent smile as I returned my notebook to my bag.

“That’s fine, Miss Royalle. Lead the way.”

I didn’t look at Tom as I got up, stretched (“Oooh, I’m so stiff right now. How can you guys sit in these rock hard chairs?”), and scooped up my things. I took a few steps down the corridor, stopping when I heard Tom catching up to me. I gasped when he took my arm and shoved me against the wall in the vestibule between Wieboldt and Harper.

“What the fuck was that?” He moaned, biting my ear.

I looked up in his eyes as I slid my hand between his legs and squeezed. Jesus, he was huge. “You seem to have a lot of very, um, enthusiastic students.”

“Eheheheheheheh,” chuckled Tom. He tried to slip a hand into the front of my skirt, but I slapped his hand away. “They’re all bright, and nice. Sweet.”

“Do you say that about your male students as well?”

“All of them. They’re good boys and girls.”

I grabbed his chin and pulled it down so I could kiss him roughly. I nipped at his lower lip before releasing him. “So what are you doing talking to me?”

“Just biding my time,” he sighed. “Until I fuck you again.”

“Oh.” I pushed him off, smiling as he rocked back on his heels. I put my bag on, pulling the strap across my body. “Fair enough. But if you want to fuck me, Professor Hiddleston, you’re going to have to catch me first.”

Tom’s smile was so wide he looked as though he might devour me. “Just say when.”

“When.”

I turned and began to run, pushing through the fire door into Harper. As I ran, I could hear Tom laughing behind me. He was farther away than I thought he would be, given how tall he was, and how fit he appeared, with his ridiculously long legs and their wonderfully muscular thighs. When I got to the end of the corridor, resting in a nook where this massive bronze sculpture of Walt Whitman’s head hung over me, I listened again. But no Tom, no sound of him running.

I pouted a little, then took the stairs to the first floor, preparing to go outside alone. There were more buildings I could have walked through, but I was close enough to Walker that I could sprint through the light rain.

As soon as I stepped outside and into the light of an old-fashioned streetlight, I heard a growl and all at once I was wrapped in somebody’s arms. A large warm hand cupped my chin and lifted it, and there were warm lips to greet mine. We panted at first, catching our breath and then we began to kiss in earnest.

“That was fun,” Tom murmured in my ear. “But surely you knew I ran cross-country at Cambridge.”

“Why the fuck would I know that?” I giggled when he slapped my ass.

“It’s on my bio, on the Classics department web site.”

“You have a bio?” I smirked up at him. “Do you make all the girls you fuck read it?”

“It’s not required. More like secondary reading. I prefer primary sources, as all good academics do.”

“Huh.”

I took his hand in mine and together we walked to Walker, then inside and up to the second floor to my office. I unlocked the door and showed him in, not bothering to turn on the lights as I locked the door behind us. A light shone through the window, cast by the lamps outside I set my bag down and took off my coat, throwing them in a chair, then leaned against the wall, watching Tom navigate the room in the dark.

“How did you get this view of the quads?” He stopped by the window, and I admired his silhouette.

“I fucked a bunch of facilities staff.”

“Seriously, Dot.”

“Fine,” I chuckled. “The rest of the department are over in Gates-Blake or Cobb, but I like it here. It’s quiet. Even if it is small, and there’s no air conditioning. In summer it can get really hot.”

“But it’s perfect in autumn.” Tom felt his way back to me, standing a few inches in front of me while he removed his coat and set it on top of mine. When I began to unbutton my blouse, he stopped me by covering my hands with one of his.

“Please.”

He kissed me gently.

“Allow me.”

Tom knelt in front of me and unzipped my boots, then helped me step out of them. He took his time, brushing his hands against the backs of my knees and thighs. Pushing my skirt up, he pressed his lips to my sex, swiping his tongue over the soaked fabric of my knickers. When I whimpered, he cooed.

“You smell divine, darling. But I know you taste even better.” He hooked his fingers over my underwear at the hip and pulled them off slowly. He balled them up then shoved them into his jacket pocket.

“Hey…” I protested.

Tom stood up and kissed me. “It’s just a loan. Like the library. You’ll get them back when I’m done.”

“Weirdo,” I whispered.

“Isn’t it nice when you recognize your own kind?” Tom bit his lip and smiled. “Undress me, darling.”

I nodded, then began to unbutton his shirt. Once that was off, I unbuckled his belt and eased his jeans and boxers down his legs. His jeans were a bit loose, so this was easy enough. When he stepped out of those, he toed off his boots and his socks.

“I was right,” Tom said as he pulled my sweater off. “It is quite warm in here.” He looked down at my breasts when he unhooked and removed my bra. “So I cannot for the life of me understand why your nipples are so hard.”

“Oh? Are they?” I said playfully. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Here, I’ll show you.” Tom took my breasts in his hands, massaging them while he brushed his thumbs over the hardened tips. When I cried out he covered his mouth with mine and sucked on my tongue.

Still kissing me, he steered me over to my desk where he took me by the hips, turned me, then bent me over. He did so carefully, kissing down my spine.

“Just a moment, darling.” I felt his lips press to the small of my back. “Condom.”

I lifted my head and looked back at him. “Maybe make that condoms.”

“I like your enthusiasm.”

“I like your cock.” We laughed. “Sorry, that probably could have been more artful.”

“That’s fine,” replied Tom. “We can work on that.”

I closed my eyes and listened. To the sound of him rooting around in his bag. To the sound of him murmuring to himself (“Pens. Notebook. Keys. Where are those things…”). To the familiar crinkle of condoms in their plastic wrappers. When he returned, he set them down on the desk before running a hand down my ass and between my legs. I bucked my hips when he ran his fingers over my clit.

“Beautiful, darling.” He murmured. One hand splayed on my lower back, he began to finger me with the other, just tickling my clit with light, slow circles. When I’d whimper, he’d just laugh and gently press his cock into my side. His touch on that nub was light, delicate in contrast to the feeling of another finger slipping into my sex. Pumping faster and faster, he just cooed while I writhed under his touch.

I heard him kneel behind me, then shut my eyes when I felt his hands on the underside of my ass. When I felt his tongue on my slick folds and then his lips suck gently on my clit, I began to plead. He released my clit, making a popping sound with lips.

“Delicious. So sweet. You’ll forgive me if I go in for another, deeper taste, darling.”

And with that he slipped his finger back to my clit, rubbing it harder while he sucked on my pussy. This was torture, exquisite torture, and I never wanted it to end. His free arm snaked up my back so he could rest his hand on the nape of my neck. It just rested there, hardly grasping me, while below his lips and fingers were circling faster, sucking harder. He moaned when I began to whine, when I began to pant and murmur that I was close, so close. Then there were flashes of white behind my eyes and I yelled his name before I arched my back, which pushed my ass up, and his mouth covered my cunt completely, his tongue fucking me hard while I came.

I could hardly talk and, from what I could tell from the sound of him breathing, neither could he. My juices were cool as they leaked down my inner thighs, and I was so warm. I let my legs sag, and fold a bit as I continued to lie there on my belly. Tom ran his hands over my calves, down to my heels so he could cup them. With a small groan, he stood and helped me stand. When I turned around, I saw how hard he was. How big and dark his cock looked, and I wanted to take it into my mouth. I licked my lips, but Tom shook his head.

“No, darling. I would like to fuck you now. As sweet and as tender as your lips are.” He leaned over and sucked on my bottom lip. “I need to be inside you.” He kissed my shoulder. “Please.”

Nodding, I hopped up and sat right on the edge of the desk. I plucked one of the condom packets and opened it, watching Tom stroke himself in anticipation. He moved his hips forward slowly, hissing at the touch of my fingers as I rolled it on. I leaned back, planted my hands on the desk, and raised my knees slightly. Tom slid his hands under my knees, lifted my legs higher, and entered me.

When he had filled me completely, he stopped. Just for a moment, so he could raise his head, and look into my eyes. When I met Tom’s gaze, when I could see how blown his pupils were, he began to thrust in and out. No bucking, no hips rolling, no snapping. Just like breathing. In and out. In and out. When I felt as though my head might roll back, and fall back onto the desk, he wrapped an arm around me and I slipped my arms around his waist.

He never stopped moving, and I kept my eyes on him. I smiled at him, but said nothing. When he began to go faster, I planted a kiss in the crook of his neck and laughed softly. He felt so good, so hard and so big, pumping out of me. The faster he moved, the more set his jaw looked. He looked so intense, almost angry, and I tightened around him as I found that even more arousing. Tom let me lie down, but kept his hands wrapped around my wrists so my arms were at my side. He was fucking me hard now, and I laughed again. I arched my back a little so my breasts bounced even more and he groaned his approval.

The sound of my whining got higher and louder. “Close, so close. Almost…” I whispered, nearly to myself, but Tom heard me, I was certain. He released my wrists and I brought my arms up over my head, holding onto the far edge of the desk. Tom leaned over, slipped a hand between us and found my clit, matching the speed at which he rubbed it with the pace of his hips as he pounded into me, not stopping when I yelled his name and came on his cock.

Tom stiffened, laughing to himself as he came inside me. I reached out to touch his neck, to brush my fingers against the stubble on his jaw as he wound his hips, and came down from his peak. He felt comfortably heavy when he collapsed on top of me. Outside the rain continued to fall, and for a while that was the only sound.

“Oh my,” I whispered. I didn’t know what else to say.

“Thank you,” replied Tom. “That was…”

“Something.” I nodded. “Definitely something.”

“Is that we’re doing? Something?” Tom lifted his head and looked at me.

I ran a thumb over his lips. “Something.”

“What does ‘something’ entail then?”

I sighed, then pulled his face closer so I could kiss him.

“I’m not sure. But why don’t we discuss it next week. During office hours.”


End file.
